


Marvel One-Shot Prompts

by becauseimbatmanfan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Most relationships are platonic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and possibly bruce, buckynat (also if you squint), clint barton is a mood™, clintasha banter because we love them, continuity? idk her, minor Civil War spoilers, most people here are idiots, stony (if you squint), these are all so SHORt im sorry, with the exception of natasha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becauseimbatmanfan/pseuds/becauseimbatmanfan
Summary: A collection of Marvel (mostly the Avengers) One-Shots based off of quote prompts





	1. “Let them go or I will kill every last one of you with this tree branch”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has to save her idiot friends using nothing but a tree branch.

Natasha was worried.

A few hours earlier, she had let Clint and James go out and explore the city together. Her first mistake. About an hour into the adventure, Clint turned his comms off, and she didn't check in with him, assuming that he knew what he was doing. Her second mistake. Now the pair had been in the same place on the docks for about fourty-seven minutes. Understandably, Natasha was becoming concerned.

She drummed her fingers on the table in her apartment, thinking of the worst and best possible scenarios. Worst? They were dead on the docks. Best? They fell asleep. She decided to go somewhere in the middle at "kidnapped." She thought through her options. She could go for a full-on assault, likely ending in her death. She could ambush them, which probably wasn't going to work either, depending on how many people they had against her. So, she decided she would ask for her friends back. And if the kidnappers didn't cooperate, well...

Natasha stood, grabbed a knife and a gun, and slipped them into the pockets of her pjs (yes, she was wearing pjs. They're comfortable). She stepped out of the apartment, and walked with purpose down the street towards the docks. She may have looked relaxed, but running through her mind was a million possible ways this could turn out. She decided that she'd have to be quick and ruthless. Natasha sighed. What else was new?

Once or twice, she passed someone who gave her a weird look, either for being in pjs, or for the noticeable gun-sized bulge in her pocket. She simply glared back at them, and they scurried away like rats. One of the benefits of being an assassin was that she learned how to give effective dirty looks.

As Natasha approached the docks, she reached into her pocket and gripped her gun. The docks were empty. She kept close to the wall of one building, and peeked around the corner. Sure enough, there were Clint and James, tied up back to back, with several armed men surrounding them. She counted twenty-three, some sporting black eyes. She smirked. Her friends had not gone down without a fight.

She stepped out from behind the building. "Hello!" She called out to the guards. They all immediately trained their guns on her. "It's okay! I just want to talk. Give me my friends back, and I'll let you go free." A few chuckled.

"And why should we let them go?" One asked. As soon as the question was asked, Natasha drew her pistol and emptied it into the nearest fifteen guards. She retreated behind the corner of the building, just as a shower of bullets flew past it. She cursed. She was left with nothing but a knife now. Why hadn't she brought more ammo? She glanced around to see what else she could potentially use as a weapon, and spotted a tree branch on the ground next to he. It was large, but still small enough to wield. It was also pretty thick, which meant it was good for bashing goons on the head. Natasha picked it up.

"Alright! Last chance! Let them go or I will kill every last one of you with this tree branch!" She threatened. The armed men merely laughed. After all, what could a woman with only a tree branch do against them? "Alright then," Natasha said to herself. "It's your funeral."

She stepped out from behind the corner and ran at the men. She slid, and their bullets flew over her. As she reached the soldiers, she stood again and turned in a circle, hitting the nearest ones with the branch. She leaped at another, kicking him in the face, and brought the branch down on the guard next to him. Natasha whirled on two more, hitting them on the head in quick succession. She instinctively ducked, and more bullets flew over head. She threw the branch at the three soldiers' feet who shot at her, knocking them down. Then, she ran and kicked each in their face as they tried to get up, and picked up the tree branch, turning to face the last soldier.

Said soldier was currently holding a gun to Clint's head. "Stay where you are!" He warned. "Or your friend gets it!" Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Oh no, you're gonna kill my best friend if I move. What a shame. Whatever shall I-" in one fluid motion, she took the knife from her pocket and threw it at the man. It embedded itself in his neck, killing him instantly. "-do," she finished, as he fell backwards.

As she moved to untie the pair of idiots, Clint spoke. "A tree branch? Seriously? There was nothing better you could have used?"

"I wouldn't have had to if you two hadn't allowed yourselves to get captured. I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

James piped up. "Clint's your best friend? Seriously? I'm hurt, Nat." Clint stuck his tongue out at him.

"Of course not," Natasha answered.

Clint's tongue retreated back into his mouth. "Wait what?"

"Come on idiots, let's go home."

As they made their way back home, Clint couldn't resist getting the last word in.

"And what's with the pjs? You seriously went to fight bad guys with in pjs using nothing but a tree branch? You should see a doctor."


	2. “Send him a picture of a narwhal, that will make him angry”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor tries to help Steve reconcile with Tony post-Civil War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing Thor in this one. He's just so damn funny.
> 
> It's mostly dialogue; hope you guys enjoy!

"Thor?" Steve walked into one of his many safehouses. Thor returned to Earth a few weeks after the events now being dubbed "Civil War," and decided to side with Steve and his team. Because there's no way anybody was controlling him.

"Steve! How are you, my friend?" He was currently standing in front of a microwave, staring at it and trying to figure out how it worked. A bag of popcorn sat on the counter next to him. Steve chuckled at this.

"Need help?" Thor frowned.

"Nay. I do not need this machine anyway. I have my own heating technique. Watch!" He summoned Mjolnir to his hand. Steve, seeing what was about to happen, tried to warn him, but Thor paid him no attention. He blasted the bag of popcorn with lightning. It exploded violently, all over the mini kitchen, little black spheres that were once popcorn kernels flying everywhere. Thor caught one and popped (ha, ha) it into his mouth. His face twisted in disgust. "This is horrid! How can you Midgardians stand this?"

Steve sighed. "Thor, it's not supposed to be burned to a crisp. I'm never letting you make popcorn again."

"Next time I shall get Stark to help. He knows everything about these strange machines."

Steve's face falls slightly. "Thor, Tony and I had a falling out, remember? The Avengers split up."

"Ah. Right. I thought that would have been over by now. See, whenever Loki and I have a quarrel, I stay mad at him for maybe an hour, then move on. One time, when I was little, he turned into a snake, and I went to grab it because I love snakes-"

"Thor, we know. You've told us this story about a million times," Steve interrupted.

"Let me finish my story, Captain." Steve sighed. "Anyway, I picked up this snake, because I love snakes, and then he turned back into Loki and was like 'blergh, it's me!' And I was so scared. But then I completely forgot about the incident ten minutes later!"

"And yet here you are recounting the story to us for approximately the billionth time."

"No, this is more like the fifth. If i had told it to you a billion times-"

"It's just an expression, Thor."

"Ah. Anyway, my point is that you two should be over your little fight already. No big deal." Thor picked at his teeth, trying to get a piece of popcorn out.

"That's the problem, Thor. On Earth it's not like that. Tony and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. How are you always on good terms with Loki?"

"Oh, I just accept the inevitability that he will eventually betray me, and stop worrying about it." Steve sighed. This conversation wasn't exactly helpful.

"Guide me through it step by step." Thor smiled.

"Right then. Do you have a way to send him a message? Where do you keep the ravens?"

"We... don't have ravens here Thor. Just phones."

"Ah, yes! Those clunky rectangular things with all the buttons. They're so easy to break. Send him a message! And no apologies, they're overrated, as the kids would say."

"Then what the hell should I send him?"

"Language, Captain." Steve gave him an are-you-kidding-me-right-now face. Thor put his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright. Here's what you do. You know those creatures... what are they called... like an ugly dolphin with a huge, dirty horn. Huge, just sticking right out of its forehead. What are those called?" It took Steve a moment to process this.

"Uh, narwhals?" Thor pointed at him and grinned.

"Yes! Exactly! And Stark hates them, right?" Steve nodded. "Excellent! Send him a picture of a narwhal, that will make him angry." Thor sat back in his chair, looking as if his work was finished.

"Hold on. Why would I send him a picture of something he hates? That makes absolutely no sense." Thor spread his arms like it was obvious.

"It will make him more accustomed to you! Focus his hatred on the creature, and it won't be directed at you! It's very simple. It's called reverse psychology."

"That's not what reverse psychology is, Thor."

"Whatever. You get my point. Do it. Now. Go, go!" Thor shooed Steve away. He pulled out his phone, and took a deep breath.

"Well, here goes." He clicked the send button, texting Tony a picture of a narwhal with absolutely no context. After a few minutes, he received a reply.

_What the hell is this, Rogers?_  
_I blame Thor. He dared me to do it_ While that wasn't exactly true, it wasn't a complete lie either.  
_Point Break. I told him I hate those things, and then he goes and does this to me? We gotta find a way to get him back. What does he hate?_  
_I'm not sure. He loves snakes, though._ Steve smiled. Thor was right. He made a note to thank him later.  
_Snakes? Seriously? Who the hell likes snakes?_


	3. “That’s your choice of weapon? Really? You don’t want to rethink this?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's weapon is not exactly the most conventional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I've been pretty busy and I lack motivation. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Barton! Romanoff! You're up. Hostage situation on Sixth. Take a squad with you and check it out." Agent Coulson rushed past, already on his way to some other mission. Although he was smiling, so he might have just put a glitter bomb in Clint's office and was trying to get away before he noticed.

"You heard the man, Nat. Let's go. Stop polishing your gun, you're scaring the agents." Clint grabbed her and pulled her up from the chair she was sitting in.

"That's the point, Clint."

"Whatever, drama queen. Let's go." To be quite honest, there were exactly two people who could get away with casually insulting and scolding her like that: Clint and Director Fury. Anyone else she would either silence with a glare, or shoot, depending on the mood she was in.

As the pair walked to a Quinjet, Clint pointed to a group of agents already conveniently dressed for a mission. "You guys. With us. Hostage situation on sixth." They nodded, and grabbed their various weapons, mostly guns. Although one of them had a new rocket launcher that SHIELD was testing out. Why they would need a rocket launcher to rescue hostages, Clint had no idea, but you never knew anymore these days.

"Where's your weapon?" One of them asked him. Clint had no guns on him, although he did have a small knife on his belt. Evidently, the agent hadn't seen it.

"It should be in the Quinjet. I just came back from a mission, and I didn't have time to take it out."

"What he means is, he forgot to take it out because he's an idiot."

"Shut up, Nat."

"Not a chance." The group of six agents with them looked at the two in confusion. They hadn't ever met Natasha, but from what they had heard she was a cold-blooded assassin, not someone who bantered with her colleague. Although they seemed like more than colleagues. Friends? Most likely. Lovers? ...less likely, but still possible.

They reached the Quinjet and boarded, immediately taking off. Clint started digging around. "I knew it's here somewhere... ha!" He pulled out a rectangular box triumphantly. "Here it is!"

"You're such an idiot, Barton." He grinned at her, and opened the box to reveal his bow an quiver. He slung the quiver on his shoulder and pulled out the bow.

"A bow and arrow?" One of the agents asked him. “That’s your choice of weapon? Really? You don’t want to rethink this?” Clint smirked at her.

"Not for a second. We're in stealth mode, right?"

"Yep."

"Good. How far away are we?"

"One mile out."

"Nat, mask me." Clint held out his hand, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mask yourself, Barton." She stood with her arms crossed.

"Aw, you're no fun." He grabbed a gas mask and put it one, then gave her a thumbs up. "How do I look?"

"Stupid."

"You mean handsome."

"I mean stupid."

"Whatever. You love me. Open the door, please." The door to the Quinjet lowered, revealing an old warehouse. "Warehouse. Why is it always a warehouse? Villains are stupid." He grabbed an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. "Steady... keep her steady." Raise the bow. Draw. Aim. Breathe in. Breathe out. Fire.

The arrow went straight through one of the windows and into the warehouse, releasing tear gas into the room. "Nat, with me. The rest of you go around to the other side. The hostages are there. And with that, he and Natasha jumped out of the plane and through the window.

"This is fun, isn't it?" Clint shot down two people in a row, then the arrow exploded into multiple fragments that took out three others.

"You really need to refine your definition of fun, Barton."

"Nah, I think you do. Hey, can you imagine the look on that woman's face when she sees that my arrows did this?"

"I really don't care about that." She shot a goon that was sneaking up on Clint. "And you need to learn to watch your six."

"...I knew he was there," Clint grumbled.

After they had finished beating the goons up, they crept over to check on the hostages. The six agents were standing with them, having taken out the guards.

"Nice work, agents. Get these people onto the Quinjet," Natasha told them as she walked by.

"So how many people did you take out with your bow and arrow?" The agent who had expressed disbelief at Clint's choice of weapon asked him, clearly thinking it would be a low number.

"Oh, around 12." Her eyes widened.

"Out of?"

"20." He smirked at her.

"Wha- how?" He patted her on the shoulder.

"I'm just that good. Now come on. We don't want to keep Agent Romanoff waiting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Clint.
> 
> Hope you guys liked it! Again, sorry for the long wait. I'll post the next chapter soon.


	4. “Can we behave like adults or do I need to put everyone in this room on a time out?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are arguing (again) and Steve has had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue in this one. It's short, but hopefully y'all like it. Enjoy!

"Does anyone want to tell me why the toaster is on fire?" Tony was, simply put, mad. This was the third time this week a kitchen appliance was on fire. Yesterday it was the microwave, and on Tuesday Clint had somehow set the refrigerator on fire.

In front of him, stood the Avengers: Steve, Bruce, Thor, Clint, and Natasha. They were all in various stages of annoyance at this impromptu meeting. "Perhaps you should extinguish the toaster first," Bruce suggested. Tony glanced behind him at said toaster.

"Whoever did it can put it out," he countered.

"Tony, the whole place is gonna catch fire. Put it out." Natasha crossed her arms and stared him down.

"Okay, but first, will the culprit please step forward?"

"Jarvis, turn on sprinkler 39E please," Bruce said with a sigh. The sprinkler directly above the toaster turned on, dousing it and, unfortunately, Tony. Now he was just even more mad.

"Now that we have _that_ out of the way."

Clint spread his hands. "Hey man, you sorta had that coming. You're kinda in a pissy mood."

"Was it you, Barton?"

"Nope. It was whoever was heating those poptarts." He pointed to the two charred poptarts jammed into the toaster. "My guess is that the person was tired or angry when using it, or they don't know how to use a toaster." He frowned. "Which... doesn't actually rule out any of us."

"Listen, Tony, does it even matter? Toaster's fine now, can we just go?" Natasha asked, clearly getting more annoyed.

"This is the third time this week guys! Third time this week something in the kitchen caught fire."

"Excellent observation skills," Clint said. "Now, as we've ruled me out, I think I'll go."

"Not a chance, Barton. I want everyone to stay here until we figure this out." Everyone groaned.

"Is this really necessary, Stark?" Thor asked. "I think you are overreacting."

"It was you, wasn't it Thor? Do you know how to operate a toaster?"

"Well... no, but I don't even know what poptarts are!" 

Steve cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. “Can we behave like adults or do I need to put everyone in this room on a time out?" They fell silent. "Thank you. Now-" 

"Hold up," Bruce interrupted, causing Steve to throw his hands in the air, exasperated. "You don't know what poptarts are? How dare you, Thor!"

"Care to show me?" Thor held out his hand and grinned. Bruce smiled back shyly.

"Sure." He grabbed Thor's hand and dragged him out, giggling and waving at the others. They all just stared at the pair as they disappeared.

"Wait," Steve said. "Are they-"

"Nope," Tony said.

"Really?"

"As unbelievable as it is, Bruce and Point Break aren't dating, no."

"They totally should be, though," Clint said.

"Oh no doubt. That reminds me, Thor still owes me milk." Tony scribbled a note to himself.

"Milk? He owes you milk?" Steve asked, confused.

"Yeah. He's the only one who could have drank that whole carton last week." Steve coughed, and turned red. "Steve? Have something you wanna tell us?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, well... I actually drank the milk."

"What."

"I drank the milk."

"Seriously Rogers? How did you just down the whole thing? How did you not get sick?"

"Uh, super soldier serum?" Tony sighed, and Clint and Natasha smirked at each other, enjoying the show.

"Whatever. I still don't know who set the toaster on fire, and-"

"It was me," Steve said. Tony just stared at him.

"You? Why didn't you say something before?"

"Well, I would have, but nobody gave me the chance." Steve looked pointedly at the three other people in the room.

"How the hell did this even happen, Rogers?"

"Well, I put them into the same slot on the toaster because... I don't know how a toaster works."

"What? And you didn't ask someone?"

"Let me finish, Tony. I started it going, and I didn't know when it would finish, but I assumed they would just pop up. But I guess they got jammed, so they didn't. The toaster overheated and, well, caught on fire."

"Jesus, you old man, ask for help next time." Tony turned to Clint and Natasha. "Alright guys, you can- wait, where'd they go?" He looked around, but the pair were gone.

"They're spies, Tony. They can do that."

"Well they shouldn't, it's unnerving." Tony started walking towards his room. "I'm going to dry off and put on some clean clothes."

"Good idea. I'll go train."

"Not a chance, Steve. You get to clean up that mess." He pointed to the toaster. "Have fun!"


	5. “Here, try this, it tastes disgusting”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Tony being Tony, with a dash of gay.

"Remind me why we're at this diner again?"

"It's not a diner, old man, it's a restaurant." Tony waved a waitress over.

"Whatever, Tony. It looks like a diner." Steve smiled at the waitress when she took their orders, and of course, made sure to thank her when she was finished.

"You're so polite."

"And you were flirting with that waitress."

"So? She's pretty."

"I can't understand you sometimes, Tony. Most of the time, actually."

"Good, that's what I'm going for."

"Now, back to my original question."

"Which was? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Steve crossed his arms and frowned at him. Tony waved him off. "Alright, fine, I remember something about a diner?"

"I was asking _why_ we're here."

"Ah. Right! Right, well, you've been spending a lot of time cooped up at the tower, so I figured it would be good to get you out and about. After this you're coming to the Stark Expo with me, maybe we can find you a hot date."

"The Stark Expo? That's still around? Last one I went to was with Bucky. Howard was showing off a flying car. It was right before Buck got shipped overseas." Steve got a slightly nostalgic look in his eyes, not even noticing Tony flinch slightly at the mention of his father.

"Alright, Rogers, enough sentiment. Yes, the Stark Expo is still around. Come on, it'll be fun."

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Of course not." Steve sighed.

"Alright, fine, I'll come with you." Tony cheered.

"You're only doing it cause you know how good I am at finding dates. Don't worry, we'll get you paired with someone."

"Wait, is this not a date?" Tony froze, and stared at him.

"...No. Nope. It's not. Seriously, what did they teach you guys in the 40s?" He chuckled awkwardly.

"...Oh. Uh, sorry. I just thought- since we're having dinner, and this place is kind of fancy, that- you know..."

"Right. You wish, Rogers."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that I wish-"

"So you don't want this to be a date?"

"Uh- why, do you?" Steve was slowly turning red.

"I, er-" Tony stammered out.

"Your food, sirs." The waitress came with their dinners, saving them from a very awkward conversation.

"Ah, saved by the waitress," Tony said, immediately digging in.

"Tony, what did you order?" Steve asked, trying to figure out exactly what was on Tony's plate.

"I have no idea, it was in French."

"You don't speak French?"

"No, why would I?"

"So why did you order it if you didn't know what it was?"

"I like to live dangerously, Rogers. You should try it."

"No, thanks." Tony took a bite of something Steve had never seen before and probably wouldn't like to see again. Tony's face scrunched up in disgust.

"Here, try this, it tastes disgusting." He tried to give some to Steve.

"No thanks, Tony. You literally just said it was disgusting, why would I want to try it?"

"I dunno, seems like something you would do."

"No, it's something _you_ would do."

"You know what?" Tony pointed his fork at him. "You're absolutely right." Steve laughed, and Tony joined in soon after.

After finishing their meal and managing to avoid any more awkward conversations, they paid and exited the restaurant, walking downtown towards the Expo, Tony's arm wrapped around Steve's shoulders. Steve smiled a bit. "Aren't you going to make a dramatic entrance?"

"It pains me that you think you need to ask." Steve laughed.

"So? Go make your dramatic entrance."

"I thought we were having a moment," Tony said, pouting a bit.

"Alright, enjoy your moment."

"Our moment," Tony corrected.

"Let's enjoy the moment then." The pair walked down the street towards the Expo, side-by-side and slightly pressed up against one another. Tony smiled. No dramatic entrance at any Expo was worth spending one less minute with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are these all so SHORT


	6. “My dog means more to me than my own life"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint is annoyed by Natasha and loves his dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all! I'm finally updating. Also, I just found a whole bunch more quotes, so this fic is gonna have like over 150 chapters. Just warning you.

"Nat, you need to stop just showing up here."

"I have no idea what you mean." Natasha was currently rummaging through Clint's fridge, trying to find something suitable to eat. She grabbed half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and held it up in triumph. She closed the fridge, and sat on the countertop as she began to eat.

"Hey, that's mine!" Clint protested.

"Oh, I know." She smirked. Clint glared at her, but she was unperturbed, and merely continued eating. "Man, this sandwich is really good. You should have one."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't." Natasha smirked in triumph. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hungry."

"So you flew all the way out to the middle of the damn country because you were _hungry?_ "

"Yeah, pretty much." Clint crossed his arms. "Also, I wanted to see Laura. And Cooper, and Lila, and the traitor baby."

"He has a name, you know."

"Oh, I know. You do realize I never call him that in front of Laura, right?" Clint turned slightly red.

"Yep... totally knew that." Natasha laughed. "So, just them, huh? Nobody else in this house you came to see?"

"Nope."

"Not even Lucky?" At that moment, Lucky just happened to be walking by. Clint picked her up and showed her to Nat. "She's devastated. Really Nat, how could you do this to such a sweet dog?"

"You're hopeless, Clint." Natasha finished Clint's sandwich and stood, walking over and patting Lucky on the head. She bent down so she was at eye level. "Who came to see you? That's right! Nat came to see you! And I'm so happy that I came!" Lucky barked and licked her in the face.

"Aww, thanks Nat. I'm glad you came." She looked up at him.

"I could not have been more clearly talking to the dog." Clint frowned, and Natasha grinned, standing up and sitting down on the couch.

"Now that's just mean." He walked over and sat next to her.

"Laura know you're up this early?"

"Of course not." A pause. "Wait, what time is it?"

"It's one in the morning, Clint."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Wait a minute, why are _you_ up this late?"

"Early," she corrected.

"Touché. You still didn't answer the question." Lucky jumped on the couch and flopped onto Clint's lap. He started to pet her as he stared at Natasha, waiting for an answer.

"Nightmares," she answered simply. Clint nodded. He knew exactly what she was talking about. "You?"

"You know I don't sleep." Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "I live on coffee." Lucky shifted so that her head was in Natasha's lap. Clint gasped in mock horror. "Lucky! I can't believe you've betrayed me like this."

"You're so dramatic." Lucky barked either in agreement or because she just wanted to bark. It was hard to tell with dogs, sometimes. "My dog means more to me than my own life. Of course I'd be devastated if she betrayed me like that."

"You're such an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

"Nope. You're Laura's problem now. I'm finally free."

"Aww, you're no fun."

"That's the point." Clint pouted. "Are... are you _pouting?_ "

"Yes. You're being a meanie."

"You're such a child."

"No, I'm a father. Gosh, Nat, get it right." She chuckled quietly, and Clint smiled at her. "I'm glad you're here." She smiles back.

"Me too, Clint. Me too." The two sat and talked, revisiting memories of times passed. Simpler times, without any alien invasions, genius billionaires, or Hulks. Clint was in the middle of recounting the time the two of them went undercover as members of a mob in Paris, when he was interrupted.

"Ahem." Clint froze upon hearing his wife's voice.

"Heyyyy, Laura. Good morning."

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"I blame Nat. It's all her fault."

"Hey, Nat." Laura smiled at her.

"Hey Laura."

"Want some tea? Something to eat, maybe?" Clint looked between the two in confusion.

"No, thanks. I already had a sandwich."

"Oh, I see how it is," Clint said. "You welcome her with open arms, but with me, it's 'Clint, why aren't you in bed,' or 'Clint, stop drinking coffee, it's bad for you.'"

"Yep, pretty much," Natasha and Laura said at the same time. They laughed and hugged.

"So... Nat, how's _you know who?_ " Laura wiggled her eyebrows and smirked at Natasha, who frowned, trying (and succeeding) to hide a blush.

"Wait, why are we talking about Voldemort?" Clint asked, confused. Both women stared blankly at him.

"It's girl talk, Clint. Why don't you just go get some rest?"

"Are you crazy? No way I'm-" Laura cut him off with a glare, and he gulped. "Right, I think I'll go to bed now." He trudged upstairs, muttering something about girl talk and dark lords.

"So, how's 'James'?" This time a faint blush crept onto Natasha's cheeks.

"You've been hanging out with Clint too much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to do a better job at better incorporating the quote into the story. Sorry bout that.


End file.
